


Thinly Veiled

by MaxWrite



Series: The Are You Coming Series [2]
Category: British Actor RPF, Harry Potter RPF
Genre: Daddy Kink, Incest Fantasy, M/M, RPF, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-06
Updated: 2006-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-24 18:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxWrite/pseuds/MaxWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Phelps family reunion time, and the twins sneak away to celebrate on their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thinly Veiled

James peered around for his brother. He wasn’t even trying to be discreet about it anymore. He was becoming desperate.

“So, Jimmy, m’boy, how goes the biz?”

“Er, great, Uncle Andy. Actually, I’m working on this new project -”

“Good, good, good, and how’s the love life, eh? Eh? Eh?”

“Er … good?”

“Oh, really? And who’s the lucky lady?”

“Well -”

“Come on, spill it! What’s her name, son?”

“Erm …”

“Excellent, excellent. So, you say you’re working on a new project, then?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m really excited about it. It’s -”

“Oh! Someone’s put out more of those cheesy things! Be right back.”

James watched his uncle scurry off to the refreshment table. He felt someone sidle up next to him, and was relieved to find his brother had returned.

“Oh, thank God! Do not leave my side again!”

“No?” Oliver smirked. “Even if you have to go to the loo?”

James shrugged. “Why not, we do it at home. Ooh, and you brought me a drink! Bless you!” He took the beer Oliver had brought him and without thinking leaned over and kissed Oliver on the cheek. They both stopped dead, staring wide-eyed at each other, realising the horrible mistake James had just made.

“D’you wanna look, or should I?” asked Oliver quietly.

“On the count of three, we look together. One … two … three.”

They both turned their heads slowly to peer out across the backyard at their relatives. Everyone was milling about and chatting and laughing, but no one was looking in their direction.

“D’you think anybody saw?” asked James.

“Dunno. No one’s looking. It was quick, maybe we lucked out.”

James exhaled heavily and took a long, deep drink from his beer bottle.

“Maybe you’ve had enough to drink for a while,” suggested Oliver.

James rolled his eyes. “I’m only on my second beer.”

“Yes, well, you’ve always been a lightweight, haven’t you?”

“I’m not drunk.”

“No, but you are feeling a bit lightheaded and dopey, I can tell. You’d never have made a mistake like that if you didn’t have nearly a beer and a half in you.”

“I’m sorry, all right? Nobody saw, we’re fine.”

“And what about what you said before? ‘Why not, we do it at home’.”

“What about it?”

“‘Home’ being my place, yeah?”

“Course. I’m over there all the time, feels like my home.”

“Someone might’ve heard that. We’re not supposed to be living together, are we?”

“We’re not.”

“But you called my place ‘home’. If someone had heard, it would seem odd to them, don’t you think?”

James reached up and began rubbing his temples. “Ol, you’re making my head hurt.”

“You’ve got to be more careful.”

“I will, I will. Oh, there’s Cousin Jesse! I’ve missed her so much! I’m gonna go say ‘hi’, okay?”

“All right. Meet you back here.”

James bounded away toward their cousin, and Oliver stayed on the deck, sipping his Scotch and watching his family. He leaned forward against the deck’s guardrail and breathed deeply, inhaling the enticing scent of the barbeque his father was proudly tending.

He smiled, seeing that his dad had dug out his ratty old “Kiss the Cook” apron and was wearing it as though it was brand new, as though it wasn’t horribly frayed and faded from years of use. His mother was shaking her head at him, saying something Oliver couldn’t hear from where he stood. His dad replied, waving his spatula about. Oliver guessed they were having the same argument they had every time they broke out the barbeque, Mum thinking Dad was overcooking things, Dad not believing her.

Oliver chuckled to himself. He knew everything would be overdone until his mother insisted on taking over.

“Oliver, m’boy!”

Oliver jumped, spilling a bit of his Scotch onto the grass below.

“Oh. Hi, Uncle Andy.”

“Where’d James run off to?”

“He’s over there, talking to Jesse.”

“Ah, good, good. So, how’ve you been?”

“Oh, you know, I’ve been -”

“Any new projects on the horizon?”

“Maybe. I read this script the other day, actually, that -”

“Are you happy with your agent?”

“Er … what?”

“Your agent. I know a guy who knows a guy whose agent is one of the best.”

“I think I’m fine with the one I’ve -”

“Yeah, I’ll talk to him for you, no worries, no worries. So, how’s the love life, eh?”

“Quiet.”

“What’s James’s girlfriend’s name, then?”

“James’s … James’s what?”

“Ol! Hey, Ol!” Oliver and Uncle Andrew both turned to see James standing at the sliding doors that led into the house. “Can you come here a sec? Aunt Laura wants some help in the kitchen.”

“Ah, sorry, Uncle Andy, I gotta go. Nice chatting with you, though.” And Oliver turned and hurried toward James as quickly as possible. James led him inside, and slid the door shut behind them.

“That man is insufferable,” whispered Oliver.

“I know. I could see the look on your face. You looked a bit constipated, actually.”

Oliver glanced around. The house was completely quiet except for their voices. He frowned at James. “Aunt Laura doesn’t really need any help in the kitchen, does she?”

James shook his head, smirking. “Nope. I don’t even think she’s here, I think she and her boyfriend went to buy more beer.”

Oliver snickered. “You sneaky thing.”

“Everyone’s outside. We’re alone.”

They both put their drinks down on the dining room table. Oliver looked James up and down, a sly smile spreading across his face. “Oh, really? And am I to assume that you had an ulterior motive in calling me in here?”

James slinked closer, and with a wide-eyed, innocent stare, replied, “Who? Me? Ulterior motives? Never.”

“Think anyone’ll notice we’re gone?”

“Nah. They’re all drunk. Let’s go upstairs.” James grabbed Oliver’s hand and pulled him onward, out into the hall and up the stairs. They headed straight for James’s old bedroom, then stopped abruptly.

“Oh, damn. My room’s a library now,” said James.

“And mine’s Mum’s sewing room.”

“Well, there is a couch in the library.”

“Yeah, leather. We’ll stick to it. What about -”

“No! Have you seen what the woman’s done to your room? It’s all frilly and floral with little ceramic animals in horrid pastel colours. Uh-uh, no way we’re fooling around in there. I'll retch all over you.”

“Ooh, kinky.”

James gave him a look of disgust and smacked his arm.

Oliver glanced up and down the quiet second floor. He stared off to his left for several seconds, and finally James followed his gaze. Then he looked back at Oliver, his eyes questioning. Oliver looked at him, too, raised his eyebrows. James smiled lopsidedly and bit his lip. Oliver began to wiggle his eyebrows.

Grasping Oliver’s hand again, James pulled him down the hall toward their parents’ bedroom.

They stopped just short of the door and glanced at each other. Then James put his fingertips to the door and slowly pushed it open. It gave a little squeak and swung back to reveal the modest bedroom, the bed nicely made, the furniture dark wood with swirling designs carved into it. The off-white curtains were drawn, but sheer enough that they let lots of sunlight in.

Oliver wandered over to a tall dresser, drawn to the pictures that sat on top of it. There was one of their parents standing side-by-side, smiling politely on their wedding day. One of their mother looking extremely pregnant, partially covering her face to hide it from her husband’s camera. There was one of himself and James, just little boys, playing in the backyard. They were lying on the grass together, facing the sky, and Oliver was holding a fluffy white dandelion before James’s face so he could blow on it.

James came up behind him, wrapped his arms round Oliver’s waist and rested his chin on Oliver’s shoulder. “How old are we there?”

“Can’t be more than six or seven.”

“We were cute.”

Oliver smiled and turned to him. “You were always cute, you pretty thing.” He pulled James against him and began nuzzling his neck.

James giggled. “Mmm, can we really do this, can we really mess around in here?”

“Well, we’re about to find out.” Oliver kissed his way up to James’s mouth and thrust his tongue deep inside it. James took a deep breath in through his nose, filling his chest and pushing it against his twin’s. He grabbed onto Oliver’s shoulders and opened up wide, letting his own tongue tangle wetly with his brother’s. A moment later, he felt Oliver stroking him between his legs, going for the button of his jeans. James pulled back a bit.

“Will we hear if someone’s coming?” he asked, casting a nervous glance at the bedroom door.

“Long as we keep the door open, yeah,” Oliver replied against James’s neck, quickly and efficiently undoing James’s jeans. “We can hear the sliding doors open from up here.”

“Ungh … Still, I dunno … Oh, fuck, yes.” Oliver’s hand had found its way into James’s underwear, had snaked down deep inside, the pads of his fingers gently stroking between James’s legs, just before his opening. James gripped Oliver’s shoulders tightly and writhed against him.

Oliver pulled back to look into James’s eyes. He released James’s waist, brought his now free hand up to his own face and gave his fingertips a seductive tongue bath, thoroughly moistening them. He removed his hand from inside James’s pants, replaced it with his other, moistened hand, and continued stroking James’s perineum, his fingers now easily sliding across it. James’s eyes fluttered shut, and he produced the most helpless-sounding little whimpers.

“That’s my boy,” Oliver whispered into James’s mouth as they panted lightly into each other. He rubbed faster. “Still worried, baby? Hm?”

James’s eyes popped open. “Yeah, kinda.”

Oliver stopped rubbing and canted his head. “How can you possibly be concerned about anything when I’m rubbing you there?”

“Remember that time, when we were seventeen, down in the laundry room? We almost got caught then, remember?”

“Made it more fun, I think.”

James grinned. “Well, yes. But still.”

Oliver sighed. “Come here,” he said, spinning James around and pushing him toward the large window.

“No, Ol, what’re you doing?”

“They can’t see us, you know that. It’s these curtains.” The curtains were sheer and patterned, thin piping running all over them in a tightly twisting and winding floral design. “We can see out, but they can’t see in.”

“Ol,” James whined, holding his jeans closed as they neared the window. The backyard and all their relatives came into view through the gauzy, patterned fabric.

“Not enough light in here,” Oliver whispered in his ear. He reached around and down for James’s hands, pulled them away from the jeans, then returned his own hands to that spot and began rubbing and squeezing. “They can’t see us at all.”

“You’re sure?” James asked uncertainly, leaning back against him.

“Mm-hm. Look, there’s Mum and Dad.”

James’s eyes darted over to the far right where his parents were still arguing over the barbeque. He watched their mother shake her head and cross her arms, while their father giggled to himself about something and prodded whatever it was he was cooking with the long, two-pronged fork he was wielding.

James sighed as Oliver’s moist mouth touched his neck, his hands sliding up underneath James’s shirt to caress his belly.

“If we opened up these curtains,” whispered Oliver, “they’d be able to see us. We’re practically right in front of them.”

James pressed his bottom firmly into his brother’s crotch, rubbed against the hardness there.

“Take it out,” Oliver ordered in barely a whisper, sucking James’s earlobe into his mouth.

James’s eyes remained on their parents. “Ollie …”

“Do it.” Oliver reached down again and pushed at James’s waistbands, lowering them slightly. James felt the air touch the newly exposed inch or two of skin, knew his pubic hair was now visible. He touched his fingertips to it gently, ran them along the strip of fur now sitting above his waistband.

“Do it,” urged Oliver, grinding against him, beginning to breathe hard himself. James could feel the heat radiating from his brother increasing. The very thought of exposing himself now was causing James to throb impatiently against his underwear. He finally reached inside, gripped himself, hooked the thumb of his other hand over the front of his underwear and pushed it down. He gazed with odd serenity at his parents as his hard, pink prick came out. He gripped its base, held it pointing straight ahead. He sucked in a sharp breath as the head brushed his mother’s curtains, smearing a tiny bead of precum across the floral design.

“That’s it,” cooed Oliver, staring down at his brother’s erection, then raising his face to lick at James’s neck again. He widened his stance, gripped James’s waist firmly and held James firmly against his body.

“Bet you want me to fuck you right now. Right in front of them. In front of everyone.”

James emitted a shuddering breath.

“Don’t you? You want to stare right at them, right at Mum and Dad while I’m inside you, hm?”

“Yes,” James admitted softly.

“I want to. Mmm, I wanna take you right now, right in front of this window.”

“On their bed, too,” whispered James.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

A mischievous grin played on James’s lips. “We could pull the duvet back … and fuck right on the sheets they sleep on.”

Oliver quickly unbuttoned his own pants, took his dick out as well. He pushed James’s pants and underwear down further, and James arched his back, feeling his brother’s cock against his now bare bottom.

“We could even come on their sheets, couldn’t we?” whispered James, a surge of excitement pulsing through him. “It’d be dry before they got in bed tonight.”

“Someone’s feeling dirty.”

“It’s this room,” moaned James, running his left hand all over his chest and belly while his right pulled at his hard-on, rolling the foreskin back and forth, “all the sex that’s happened here. I can just feel it.” He turned his head until his brother’s face appeared in his periphery. “We were conceived here, Oliver.”

The twins stared silently at each other for a moment, letting that statement sink in. Then James grinned at him.

“D’you think we touched each other in utero?” he asked.

Oliver smiled, too. “I’m certain we did a lot of snuggling.”

James moaned happily as he fisted his cock, turning back to the window, watching their relatives mingle. “Look, Uncle Christopher’s here,” he breathed. Oliver peered over his shoulder. “He was always so much fun. I love him so much.”

“Mm, he loves us, too,” said Oliver, as he slicked his palm with saliva, applied it to his length and then nestled his slippery dick between James’s cheeks. “Lean forward a bit, baby.” James chose instead to shimmy out of his jeans and underwear altogether and raise his right foot so he could rest it on the window seat. Arching his back, he began to rock his hips back and forth, creating gentle friction for his twin, and sped up a bit when Oliver took his waist again.

“Oh, you’re so good,” groaned Oliver, pulling James back against him as tightly as he could. His right hand wandered up and down James’s raised thigh, up under James’s shirt to tweak a nipple, then down again and round to the front to pet James’s fluffy pubic patch and to cup and caress his balls.

“Remember how Uncle Chris used to sit us in his lap?” said James.

“Mm-hm, and strategically place his hands between our thighs.”

“I kind of liked that,” said James huskily, arching, standing up tall, raising his chin a bit and pressing harder against Oliver.

“Me, too.” Then right into James’s ear, Oliver whispered, “I wanted him to touch me.”

“Oh, god, so did I. He never did, though.”

“Could never bring himself to.”

“Sweet man … We should fuck him now.”

Oliver chuckled against James’s neck. “Dirty thing.”

“D’you think he’d refuse? And he’s still rather attractive.”

“That’s Mum’s brother, James.”

“We should let him have us now. We should go home with him tonight.”

Oliver remoistened his prick, repositioned himself, gripped James’s hips and began grinding again. “Oh, fuck, you’re a bad boy. What about Cousin Jesse?”

James’s eyes found their tall, willowy, ginger-haired cousin, her long, straight tresses dancing on the breeze.

“Remember when we were all thirteen and she -”

James smiled and groaned, remembering. “- showed us her tits,” he breathed. “She let me suck on one.”

“You just love having things in your mouth.”

“Of course I do - Uh-oh.” James’s voice changed abruptly, suddenly sounding panicked. “Dad. He’s coming toward the house.”

Oliver peered out at the backyard. Sure enough, their father had passed his two-pronged fork over to their mother and was headed for the entrance. Seconds later, they heard the doors slide open, then closed. James stopped dead.

“Don’t worry,” said Oliver. “If we hear him coming up the stairs, we can run into the bathroom.”

“We won’t make it,” James protested.

“Yes, we will, don’t worry.”

“D’you hear him? Where is he? What’s he doing?”

“I think he’s in the kitchen.”

Oliver continued to make little movements against his brother as he listened for noises from below them.

“Stop it, Ollie!”

“Shhh.” Oliver wrapped his arms round James’s torso and leaned them both forward until James had to brace himself against the window with his hands.

“They can see my hands now, I know they can,” James fussed.

“Shhh, nobody’s looking.” Oliver reached for James’s cock, pulled his foreskin back and held the base, moistened his right hand, reached down with it, too, and set to work. He felt James’s body react immediately.

“Oh, gohhhhd, Oliver …”

“Shhhh, he’ll hear you,” said Oliver teasingly.

“Boys?” came the voice from downstairs. A tiny whimper escaped James’s throat, but Oliver didn’t let him go.

“Answer him,” Oliver whispered, still stroking James and grinding into him. “Answer him, James.”

Another whimper, and then, “Er, yes, Dad?”

“James? Ol with you?”

“Yeah.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Erm … I’m just …” James cursed under his breath. “Stop it!” he hissed.

“If you don’t talk to him, he’ll come up here.”

“Fuck!” Then, in his most normal sounding voice, James called, “I’m just seeing what Mum did to our rooms.”

“Oh,” replied Martyn, sounding less than enthused. “Ol’s is just dreadful, isn’t it?”

James chuckled nervously, panting as quietly as he could. “Uh-huh.”

“Your Uncle Chris just arrived, he wants to see you.”

“Oh? Really?” Oliver snickered at the unnaturally high pitch of James’s voice. “Well, er, we’ll be … coming in a minute.”

At that, Oliver began humping faster, stroking more vigorously. James lowered his head, giving up on watching for any relatives who might happen to notice his hands up against the master bedroom window. He panted down at the floor, arching even more, pushing his bottom against his brother as Oliver’s shaft slid quickly up and down between his cheeks, right up against his tight little hole.

“All right, then,” called Martyn. “Where’s Ol?”

“Bathroom,” James answered quickly.

“Oh … You sure you’re all right up there? You sound a bit funny.”

“Well … you know … all these … flowers and … frilly things … it’s rather … traumatic, really.”

“Ah. I understand. Believe me. Well, hurry along, then, lunch will be served any minute now.”

“Okay, Daddy,” James panted, his eyes squeezed shut, his body falling into a quick, steady rhythm with his twin’s.

“All right … You know,” Martyn continued, his voice suddenly subdued, “it’s good to see you, son. You and Ol.”

“Y-you, too.” James turned his face to meet Oliver’s mouth with his own, and they kissed passionately, James groaning quietly straight into Oliver’s throat.

“We should all sit down and – I dunno – talk or something. Just the three of us. It’s been a while. I’ve missed you.”

James broke the kiss. He and Oliver, faces barely an inch apart, looked into each other’s eyes.

“Daddy,” James whispered before he could stop himself, a tiny ache forming somewhere in his chest, the sentiment in their father’s voice having stirred something within him.

“Say that again,” whispered Oliver.

“No!” James hissed back.

“So, what do you say?” called Martyn. “Later on, we all have a chat? Catch up a bit?”

“O-okay,” called James. “Yeah.”

“We’d like that, Dad,” added Oliver. “We’ve missed you.”

“We love you, Daddy,” called James, tightly squeezing the delicate curtains in his fists. “We’ll be down in a minute – Shit!”

Oliver quickly clamped his left hand over James’s mouth to stifle his grunts. “Er, James just stubbed his toe,” he yelled. “Be right down, promise.”

“Right,” said Martyn uncertainly. “Okay. See you outside.”

Oliver angled James cock downward and slowed his stroking in the hopes of postponing his twin’s orgasm. He listened intently, listened and waited, and finally heard the sliding doors open, then close. He recommenced with his quick, tight strokes, removed his hand from James’s mouth and used it to take hold of his own pulsing length, which he also angled downward.

“You said it,” growled Oliver.

“No,” whimpered James.

“You wanted to say it out loud, didn’t you?”

“No! Oh, fucking shit, I’m gonna come!”

“Say it again. Let me hear you scream it this time. Come on, baby, no one can hear you but me.”

“D-d-daddy,” James stuttered, his body beginning to spasm.

“Louder, Jamie.”

And as James watched their father make his way back toward the barbeque, as he shuddered and ejaculated on his mother’s carpet, he was unable to keep that word from erupting from his throat.

“Oh, fuck, daddy, fuck!”

“That’s a good boy,” said Oliver, coming on the carpet between James’s legs. “You want him inside you, don’t you?”

“Ungh, yeah!”

“You want him to spank you and take you and come deep inside you, you always have.”

“God, fuck me, Daddy, fuck me!”

A few more uncontrolled groans and spasms, and their orgasms finally began to subside. James hunched limply over the window seat and felt Oliver lean weakly against him, breathing hard against his neck.

“I think he knows,” panted James.

Oliver raised his head. “Don’t say that.”

“Back up a bit, will you?”

Suddenly not feeling very hidden at all behind the thin veil of fabric, they backed away from the window just as Martyn’s eyes turned up in their direction.

“How could he not know?” said James, turning to Oliver. “How could he not -”

“Shh.” Oliver stepped toward him again, took James’s jaw in his hand and kissed him softly. When their lips parted, James’s eyes fell away from Oliver’s face, down to the floor, a burning well of shame growing in his gut.

“Get the tissues,” he muttered. He pulled away and bent over to pick up his jeans and underwear. He quickly put them back on. Oliver zipped up and went to retrieve a tissue box from one of the bedside tables. They each took a handful of tissues, knelt down and began pressing the tissues into the wet spots on the carpet.

“I feel really weird now,” said James. “I think I know why we never did it in here when we lived here. Too bizarre afterward.”

“Was nice during, though.”

“Yeah.”

They cast furtive glances at each other, giving each other embarrassed little smiles.

“Don’t be ashamed,” said Oliver softly. “You only said what you felt in the moment.”

“I don’t feel that,” James replied quickly, pressing at the carpet rather harder than required.

When they’d picked up as much of the wetness as possible, they replaced the tissue box on the nightstand, went and flushed the tissues down the toilet, checked themselves in the bathroom mirror, and made their way back downstairs. They stood for a long while next to the dining room table, just to the right of the sliding glass doors, staring out at their family.

“They’ll be able to tell,” said James. “As soon as they see us, they’ll all be able to tell. They’ll see it on our faces.”

Oliver didn’t reply.

“Ol? This is the part where you tell me I’m crazy.”

“I did see Mum once,” said Oliver, still staring blankly out at the backyard. “When we were little and playing out there. I looked up and I saw her standing in the window. Behind the curtains. Watching us.”

James stared at him, remained silent.

“Just the one time. She looked almost like a ghost behind that translucent material. I might’ve even imagined it, I dunno.”

James looked back through the glass doors, bit his lip. “Dad sounded weird. When he said, ‘Right. See you outside’. Didn’t he?”

“Just forget it.”

“Why didn’t he come up, then?”

“He just wanted to get back outside to his precious barbeque. Come on, let’s go.” Oliver placed a hand on James’s lower back and nudged him toward the door.

“I can’t hide it,” muttered James plaintively. “I won’t be able to, I just know it.”

“James -”

“Everyone’s gonna be able to tell, especially him.”

“I don’t think -”

“God, the things I said up there.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll just play up this mysterious girlfriend you’re supposed to have. You know Uncle Andy’s spread that little rumour round the yard eight times by now.”

“Right, okay, girlfriend, yeah,” James nodded, allowing Oliver to guide him to the doors. Then he stopped and frowned. “Wait … Girlfriend? What girlfriend?”

Oliver smiled and shook his head. “God, I love our family.”

END


End file.
